


I Had to Fall to Lose It All

by ineedacatalyst



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, No Smut, Post-Apocalypse, This is trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27856109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedacatalyst/pseuds/ineedacatalyst
Summary: A character study of how Dean and Castiel's relationship formed in the endverse.Please be kind, this is my first posted fan fic since 2013!!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 4





	I Had to Fall to Lose It All

_Our relationship didn’t begin easily or naturally._

When I rescued Dean from Hell, I had to drag him away from Alastair kicking and screaming. As I carried him away, Dean flailed, screeched, struggled, and tore at my wings. He _begged_ to return to the rack, to his “work,” and he put up a fight that I wasn’t expecting. After all, Dean’s soul was mostly human at this point. Yet, despite his humanity, his soul was riddled with demonic energy, which made saving him a challenge. When I first met Dean, he reeked of ash, burning bodies, smoke, and sulfur. Dean’s soul cracked and bearing the scars of 40 years in Hell. He was stained, even though Heaven had ordered his rescue. At first, I didn’t understand Dean. I was both in awe of him and disgusted by him. He was God’s chosen, yet he was so close to being a demon when I rescued him. He was paradoxical, the opposite of what I was expecting, and this intrigued me more than I’d admit to myself, let alone the other angels. Once Dean started on his mission to save the seals, I occasionally dropped in and watched him sleep. His nightmares were soaked in alcohol and violence. I realized that I had grown to like him when I began easing his mind of the dreams. I’ve never told Dean this, but this was what convinced my superiors that I’d grown too close to the humans in my charge.

_There was never any period of fuzzy, shy unrequited love for either of us._

The first time we took our relationship beyond friendship, beyond what Dean considered brotherhood, we were drinking heavily and admitting defeat. It was late 2009 and War was laying waste to the land. Entire metropolitan areas had spiraled into warzones and humans were slaughtering each other in all out “kill or be killed” combat. The night things changed, we’d just lost Santa Fe, New Mexico, the last “demon free” city in the southwestern United States. After escaping Santa Fe, we’d found an abandoned house in Agua Fria, New Mexico, and set up shop to regroup, recover from our injuries, and plan our next move. Before finding the house, I’d raided a liquor store, drank most of its contents myself, and brought back two bottles of bourbon for us to share. We were on the second floor of this house, sitting on a bare mattress and passing a bottle back and forth when Dean said “Cas, we’re going to lose” for the first time.

After saying this, Dean closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. A sob escaped his lips, and he began to cry for the second time since I’d met him in 2008. The cries were choked and foreign sounding. They made me feel empty and strange.

In response, I’d set the bottle down on the ground and brought him in for a hug. As I did this, Dean had lifted his face to mine and kissed me desperately, savagely, sloppily. I’d kissed him back, and we ended up having drunken, messy, mostly unsuccessful sex on that bare mattress in the abandoned house.

_There was never any courting or “let’s meet the parents” moments._

Our relationship changed overnight, but we never acknowledged it. 

At our best, we held hands in the car and shared a bed. Dean liked to nibble on my earlobes and whisper things in my ear. He was a cuddler and he always reached for me in the dark. We became a terrifying team while hunting and many classes of demons fled from us. I taught Dean a few Enochian spells and he taught me how to drive a car with a manual transmission. 

At our worst, we’d throw punches and accuse each other of starting the apocalypse. On more than one occasion, Dean brought girls back to our shelters to antagonize me. Once or twice, those turned into threesomes. When I still had my wings, I’d disappear for days at a time and not answer my phone. Once Dean summoned me back with a spell I’d taught him and punched me as soon as I landed in front of him. 

“Never leave me again!” He’d screamed, his pupils blown out, his face red and angry.

I promised and I was true to my word. 

A month later, I lost the ability to fly. 

_We shared losses, we shared wins, we shared the end of the world_

When Sam said yes to Lucifer, Dean was catatonic for two days. He laid in bed, wouldn’t talk, eat, or willingly drink water. I had to prop him up and force him to drink water with a straw. Afterward, I’d crawled into bed next to him and he’d let me hold him close. He never said a word during those two days, but his body wouldn’t stop shaking and his eyes remained red and glassy. We’d fallen asleep tangled up in each other’s arms that night and, when we awoke, Dean had buried it and I let it happen.

Camp Chitaqua was our refuge from the world. A walled off fortress with access to a freshwater stream, woods and edible animals, and pre-built shelters and plumbing. Dean had been so excited when we found it. He found a cozy cabin near the entrance and declared it was where we would live. When we’d gone inside and I’d frowned at the dirt floor, he told me I could put one of my “hippie blankets” down. We slept in that cabin that night and Dean had murmured in my ear that he loved me, and he was glad I’d stuck around. 

Croatoan virus hit American Samoa last month. This matters because it was the last place on earth without it. The virus has devastated the island’s populace and people are fleeing to the ocean, not aware that demons can teleport and croats can swim. The sky has begun to blacken on a global level and the temperature has dropped several degrees. It’s winter here most of the time now and the cold chills my bones. Whiskey and time with Dean used to warm me. These days, I need more. The trackmarks between my toes tell that story. Dean moved out of our cabin last week to spend more time alone so he can “focus on the search for the Colt,” but Annie saw Risa leaving his cabin at 3am. I can’t judge, after all, Annie saw him while leaving mine. 

_This is goodbye_

I knew the plan. I knew I was a diversion along with the others. I knew I wasn’t expected to survive. I hardly see the point anyway, so it’s not like it bothers me too much. Right now, we’re sitting near the factory loading up our guns and our gear and the younger version of Dean is glaring at the older version, my version of Dean. He knows something is up and he doesn’t know that I do too. He’s so young, his soul is so bright, and sometimes I forget that the reason he put up a fight in Hell is because he thought he deserved to stay there to atone for the pain he’d caused to the souls on the rack. His soul was burning, but it was still bright. My Dean has suffered through the end of the world and it has sucked the hope, and the spark right out of him. His soul is stained once again. He doesn’t want to live in this world anymore. He wants to kill the Devil and go down fighting. He came to my cabin last night and told me everything. The plan. The diversion. Everything. Afterward, he’d cried for the millionth time since I’d known him, and we’d made love one last time in the dark cold of my cabin. Afterward, he’d reached for me in the dark; kissed my jaw, my mouth, my neck, and my earlobes; and whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me” and I’d wrapped us in a couple of hippie blankets. We’d slept through part of the night and then loaded up to hit the road. He told me to go with the younger Dean and explain why he needed to say yes to Michael. I didn’t say anything to the younger Dean. It won’t change anything. We will always end up right here. 


End file.
